Shadows
by ship-to-shore
Summary: A new mission brings back old crew with an old device. Sending the Seaview crew into extra time.


SHADOWS

Deep below the surface of a crystal blue sea dark deeds were being done. There were some very dark thoughts as Trevor Reams strode purposefully towards the control room of his submarine Nemesis.

But even with such dark thoughts he could not help but smile to himself. Marine research was what this submarine had been designed for. Now it was for a far darker service.

Not that had stopped him getting funding for this little venture. Rich and gullible marine scientists seemed to be in abundance around the Pacific Rim. As he reached the control room his smile faded. The crew worked better if he just scared the hell out of them. Plus the fact he had a major thorn in his side that he had to wipe off the face of the earth, once and for all.

"Have we computer control of the Angel!?" He barked as he entered.

As he stalked the crew he ran his hand through his hair. His black hair hung in a dark clammy knot and his pale eyes shone out with anger as he paced the deck.

The first crewman, who just happened to be standing by the hatch that Reems barged through, jumped at his question. He was very apprehensive, not too sure how to answer it. Well answer it and live that is. He was not at all sure if their Captain wanted to know the answer. As they had been working to gain control of the Angel Satellite since they had been hidden on the bottom of the sea. Just beyond the last rim of the Unforgettable Islands.

And now thanks to the Angel satellite system he would start by blowing up the main threat to his plans, without even being in the same country.

Everything had gone to plan and as the Angel system spat fire down on Santa Barbara. He knew that at last one Admiral Harriman Nelson was dead. Fried to a cinder

It had been a bight sunny day in Santa Barbara. At dawn there had not been a cloud in the sky. Only a light breeze blew over the harbour. The odd lonesome gull giving the odd squawk as it flew overhead. The Nelson Research Submarine Seaview bobbed up and down in her pen. All was quiet on this, for once, peaceful day. Up in the main office complex. It had not been so good at all.

_John Taylor_. The name was all too familiar to Admiral Nelson. At first Nelson had thought he had been given the wrong orders from Washington. Much to his annoyance trying to find out more details about the mission was like hitting his head against a brick wall.

Washington was stonewalling Nelson at every opportunity. In no uncertain terms he had been ordered to take this mission. When at last they had complied in sending him down the necessary documentation it all became clear as to why Seaview had been specifically asked for. That did not mean that he liked the top-secret report that lay open in front of him. As he leaned back in his chair contemplating every word, he drew on his cigarette trying to understand the reasoning behind why Washington had deemed the job applicable to the institute.

The top brass seemed to be dancing around the true facts. The darn thing told little, but, he had to admit, it intrigued and annoyed him in equal measure. John Taylor, why him? This was one mission he would have to play by ear.

What angered Nelson was Taylor's denial of blame for what had happened. Overwork and stress the specialists had said. He had missed all the signs that could have prevented that car crash. If he had not made that late night call. Now he was being forced to work with the man. He did not care how many people picked up on the fact that he did not like the job the Navy had given him.

Nelson picked up the phone. Peaceful day? He wondered if there was ever such a thing in this day and age.

"Admiral Nelson says he'll see you now," the guard said as he returned his papers. If Taylor had any doubts about coming back he pushed them to the back of his mind.

With a curt thank you to the guard he set off towards the main office complex.

Before he went in he reached into his, back trouser pocket grabbing onto a small chain he pulled. Eventually a small bronze pocket watch came out. Almost dropping it John grabbed at it. For a second he seemed to wink out of existence and then back again. He looked around hoping no one had noticed. He checked the time on the watch again and then, he continued his way back towards Nelson, Crane and hopefully access to the Seaview.

John made his way towards the Admiral's office, but had to smile. Sitting at her desk was one thing that had not changed, and it made him glad for the first time since taking on this mission. It made him very uneasy that he had to bring Nelson and the Seaview in without telling them the full nature of who the enemy was.

"Angie," he greeted her with a grin. "It's nice to know there's a constant in this mad universe."

"It's been a long time John. The Admiral's missed you."

"I bet he has!" John could not believe the last comment, even from someone as beautiful as Angie. Their last conversation had been far from amicable. Even after four years, that mere thought of the last conversation with Nelson still smarted, not that he could blame him. As her amber eyes glowed up at him he decided not to dwell too long on past events. "Is the old man alone?" He waved his arm towards the door.

"He, and Captain Crane are waiting for you." She took a deep breath and laughed the low laugh that John had never forgotten, even after all of these years. "And don't call him the old man, you know how much he hates it!"

"As long as I don't get called lad, we'll be well away." So much had happened at the institute and to the world in general since the 'accident'. Coming back here now he could remember it all, just like it was yesterday. For John, thanks to the watch, it was, well just about a week. But John had built on that day, to where he was today. John had made sure that the institute was well protected in terms of computer security, whether the Admiral wanted it or not.

John did not quite know how to take the meeting that he had with Nelson and Crane before Seaview sailed. After his past dealings, he had been expecting Nelson to flatly refuse him access to his sub.

Taylor knew the facts as well as the next man. It did not bode well for him that Washington needed Seaview more than they needed Washington grants.

John had gone to great lengths over the years to make sure that marine research still took up most of her time. And he would fight Washington for anything different. He could only protect Nelson so far from the reality of the situation. It was now just a matter for him to play his role of the prodigal son's return, and hope that Nelson would not realize that he had not aged much.

Crane sipped his coffee with Admiral Nelson. He wondered just why this meeting had been call, a meeting that had surprised him. Their orders from Washington had been very explicit. But it did not tell them why had to be the Seaview, and why they would be forced to take back. In overall command of the mission, Taylor

Here and now, Taylor was going to clarify why no other sub could take him to his destination. They had let to give the green light and recall the crew. But they would hear Taylor out.

The safety of Seaview and her crew were his responsibility. Nelson was still having no luck with Washington. Crane doubted that the safety of Seaview was Taylor's main objective.

"Are we ready?"

"It would help if we're fully informed about the mission. Just what do you want us to do?" Asked Nelson.

"Just do what ever I say Admiral. That's the be all and end all of the mission. As you've no doubt noticed, I've marked the chart as to where I want Seaview to go. All that you've got to do is take us there. Read the mission reports and I await your decision." Taylor got up without waiting to be dismissed and leaned towards Nelson. "The sooner the better Admiral!"

The charts stared up at Admiral Nelson. Dotted around the small, wild remote islands of the Pacific were some of his best research facilities, or had been. A single Submarine over the last two weeks had destroyed years of research. The attacks had formed themselves into a chain reaction.

For hours he tried to find logic in the attacks. The Pacific, being such a vast ocean, had given the perpetrators time to leave next to no evidence as to whom, what or why.

What was even more frustrating was why anyone would wish to destroy years of work that would benefit all of mankind. He was becoming more and more convinced that whoever was behind the attacks was becoming blazon about which facilities they attacked, or whom they killed in the process. It was just a matter of time until the enemy showed their true colours, their real master plan. As he worked in his office at the Institute of Marine Research it did not ease his frustration.

He reached over to his laptop and began to punch in some data.

Nelson hated it when computers did this to him. The entire screen in front of him was a mass of colour; his science paper lost somewhere in its bowels. NIMR's main complex had just had delivered some of the most up to date computer hardware. He had just started to call up some of his old documents to see how the system would respond to the demands of NIMR. For some reason a large yellow Pac-man had invaded his computer screen and had begun to eat all of his data.

"Two whole weeks, Ski!" Exclaimed Stu Riley as he gloomily fitted his surfboard into the back of his open-topped car. "We were going to have two whole weeks of having nothing to think about except sun, sea and surfers!" Riley could tell from the look that Kowalski was giving him that he also did not think much of the idea of having to cut short their shore leave

"You just had to say those immortal words Stu. 'Come on Ski, you do know that the chick's can't resist a surfer!' And what happened? We've just had enough time to unpack the boards," grumbled Kowalski as he began to help Stu with the rest of their gear.

"I wonder what's the emergency this time?"

"We'll find out soon enough." Riley looked closely at the tied boards. "Make sure they'll firmly secured, Ski."

"Yep, they'll last us the trip back for sure."

"Good, as from what I've heard they want us back at the Institute ASAP."

Kowalski jumped into the passenger seat and with a wry grin on his face turned and said," well what are we waiting for?"

Mists swirled and visions appeared, only to be snatched away before they could fully develop. Sensations thudded at his brain.

Lee Crane opened his eyes, blinked at the brightness of the room. When he found that he could open his eyes, he pushed himself up, and found himself wishing he had not done so as quickly, as a spasm of pain shot through his head. It passed as quickly as it had come. Groggily he looked around the room.

From the various instruments, bunks and other tale-tale objects, he concluded that he was in sickbay. He just wished that he could remember how he had got here. His movement alerted the doctor and Chip Morton who had been talking quietly on the far side of the room.

"Wh…what?"

"Take it easy, Lee. Don't try to get up," Morton reassured him as he and the doctor came over to his bunk.

"There's been an accident, an explosion in the main office complex…." was all that Morton could say, as his voice seemed to desert him.

"You Captain, were lucky that you were at its very edge. However I'm keeping you in here for observation."

Crane already had the look of someone who would be trying to break out of sickbay any way possible, as he knew there was something major that they were not telling him.

"The Admiral?" was all that he could ask. Neither Morton nor the doctor had to say a word. All that Crane could do now was mourn for his friend.

Three days of hell, that was what Captain Lee Crane of Seaview, would call it. After days of investigations they had still to ascertain just what had caused the blast that had claimed the life of special agent John Taylor, and his friend and commanding officer Admiral Harriman Nelson. The small FBI team that had been assigned to the Institute in the wake of the attack was to be swiftly replaced with an anti-terrorist squad who would work on the case in tandem with the local police. But thanks to John Taylor they had a clue of where to start and who to look for.

The years had not been kind to the Pacific Rim islands that the first seafarers had called the Unforgettable Islands.

In the last few years to the USA they had become very unforgettable. Having been the launch bed of a series of devastating attacks that had started without warning. America wakened again by a threat to her shores, retaliated. Whatever plans the Mastermind on the island chain had, it would die with him in the ashen flames of war that he had brought on himself.

But that was not before casualties that would strike at the very heart. Questions were still being asked at how this attack could have happened.

Now the beast was rising again. A new attack had been launched mere days ago. And the trail led back here.

The small inflatable craft snuck into the tiny sandy shore under a moonless night. No human eye watched their arrival as the two men, dressed in combat black, silently pulled the small craft up the sandy shore and camouflaged their means of escape under a convenient outcrop of rock.

One of the men started to pull out of the craft a small rucksack and stepped back.

"Whoa….." The first words uttered on the island by Chip Morton as he fell backwards over a sand-submerged Giant Turtle. The second and third were lost to the wind.

The turtle did not think much of this incident either and began to flap its fins. Digging into the sand. It flew everywhere as the turtle again, tried to lose himself into the sand and covering Chip Morton at the same time.

"Chip, if the Admiral were here," But paused as if reigning in emotions that he did not want to feel. Could not feel, not here and now. But then began to talk again as if he had not stopped. "I'm sure he would commend you in checking out the local wild-life…."

Chip went to answer but all that he got for his effort was a mouthful of wet sand. "Caaaugh…." Was all that come out as the sand reached the back of his throat spluttering even more as Lee helped him up.

"Come on…and be more careful…with these. They are for one thing and one thing only." Lee told Chip, with an edge to his voice that Chip had never heard before. Lee handed him a now sand coved rucksack. Chip nodded trying to get rid of excess sand at the same time.

Lee by this time had taken out his flashlight and had pointed it out to sea. Turning it on and off in three short bursts. This in turn was repeated way off, a mere pinpoint on the horizon.

"Come on we've no time for beach combing. We're ending this now." Lee did not wait for Chip to reply as he went up the beach towards the dense jungle that ended abruptly as it came into contact with the sand rocks of the shore. Now that he was here he would not let anyone or anything get in his way. This was personnel.

He had managed to convince Doctor Jamison that it was not. But deep down he knew that it was not true. That he would not stop until he had found the terrorists who had attacked the Institute. Killing his friend, brother, employer, Admiral Harriman Nelson. Cowards they had run back here. But the Seaview had followed and they would never stop following. To the ends of the earth and beyond if need be. This mission had effected them all but now they had a target and that was something that Lee Crane had to see through to the end.

The computer screen bleeped its curser up at him and he sighed deeply. Just one key to press and all his years of work here, deep in the Pacific Ocean would be complete. He raised his index finger to press down on the keypad.

"John, we've gotta problem!" Came a high, almost panicked voice behind him. John had almost forgotten that he was not alone on this base and almost fell off his computer chair as he spun around at the new voice his partner in their little venture, dived through small open hatch that separated him from the rest of the scientific base.

"WHAT?" He mouthed annoyed that his train of thought had been broken just when everything had been coming together.

Harry just waved his hands in the air. "They've found us. The Institute's here." Harry responded sounding less panicked. But still with fear burning in his eyes. John just sighed again and scratched his head.

"And?"

"They've been monitored and they've got the evidence." Harry pointed behind John and towards the mathematic equations that were flashing on the screen. Just before a large yellow Pac man screen saver replaced them. It's mouth wide open in a toothless grin. "And they're coming for US…."

"For us?" Harry scratched his curly red hair. "But they should be after the Nemesis? They should just be repeating history?"

"Well, like, it's SO not!"

"We've done something wrong then. They think we've the bad guys now."

"Maybe I should go dress in black and breathe deeply?"

Harry rolled his eyes at John. "No just go and speak to our guest. He'll be able to stop Crane from blowing the wrong place up. While I calculate the next Pem jump."

"Okay will do. But I don't see what we can do differently. We've gotta stay in the shadows with this." All Harry did was nod at this but he was too intent in his monitor to take much notice. "Bye." Harry just wave a hand at him. Pointing towards the door sharply. "Time's a changing."

"It's a long story….." John Taylor had told Admiral Nelson when he had first found himself here. The last thing he remembered was looking over mission charts with John Taylor and then being here.

Hours later it was still trying to sink in. Of just how much had been changed or altered just so him and the Seaview to survive.

He also had found out that it was also a work in progress. But he had yet to find out just who would go to such lengths to save one man and his dream. Well he would have been the first to admit that he would have been one of them. But at the beginning of all this, whenever it was he was dead.

The door in front of him opened and John Taylor stuck his head through. "John…what's going on?" Harriman Nelson asked.

"Time's a changing Admiral…" John told him just as everything around Nelson disappered.

"Have we control of the Angel?"

"I…er…" The crewman started to say.

"Well?!" Reams pulled the unfortunate crewmen towards him by the scruff of his collar. Making the poor crewman so nervous that when he did try to answer. No sound would come out of his mouth.

"Oh, don't bother!" Reams spat. He pushed the poor man back into the bulkhead with a resounding clang. He went further into the control room. His mood hitting the crew, before he did. "I could've got a better crew at Wal-Mart…." He muttered on his way. And if he thought his day was bad.

He soon found that the American 7th fleet was going to make it far, far worse.

For one Admiral Harriman Nelson. It had been a bight sunny day in Santa Barbara. At dawn there had not been a cloud in the sky. Only a light breeze blew over the harbour. The odd lonesome gull giving the odd squawk as it flew overhead. The Nelson Research Submarine Seaview bobbed up and down in her pen. All was quiet on this, for once, peaceful day. Up in the main office complex. It was not good at all.

"Angie…I've run out of coffee…" Harriman Nelson was heard to bellow. A now very peaceful day in the life of the Seaview and her crew.

If things were not to change again………..


End file.
